From the first moment I stepped foot in my lovely boyfriend’s bedroom all of those years ago, I had a sudden urge to spring clean. For three years, every single time I walked in, I would ask at least one million times if he would pretty please let me clean it and every time without fail, he would respond with at least one million and one no’s.
Today though, today was the day that I finally got a yes. After three years of constantly persisting, he finally caved in and we were actually cleaning his room.
Now as you are probably aware, I am a girl and girls tend to clean things. Anything and everything, and often more times than necessary. What I learnt today however, is that boys do not have that same personality trait.
Twenty-one years old and to be quite honest, going by the amount of clothes in his wardrobe, it appeared that my lovely boyfriend hadn’t cleaned his room in what seemed to be a very, very long time. Baby clothes, teddies, toys, you name it, it was shoved in a draw somewhere. As you can imagine, it didn’t take long before I was regretting my decision.
About two hours in and my little helper was done, he was nowhere to be seen. I however, was still busy plodding along, pulling clothes out of draws, putting things in piles, hanging things up and wherever possible, throwing as many things away as I could.
Even at the half way mark, I don’t think I had ever seen so many rubbish bags come out of one room in my whole entire life. I was beginning to think that it really was true; boys must have been from an entirely different planet, because a girl would go crazy in a bedroom like that.
Then again though, I do have a big brother who has a bedroom very similar, so really I should have known exactly what I was getting myself into.
Eventually my little helper decided to come back, not that he was overly helpful by this stage. Apparently he thought it was more important to go down memory lane and try on each and every single one of his thirty-seven dusty old baseball caps instead of throwing them away and moving on to the next pile. Despite slowing down on the cleaning as such, he was doing a very good job at making me smile.
By around the third hour, we were finally starting to see the floor again and by the fourth, heading into the fifth, we were just about finished. After three years of staring at a messy room and at least fifteen years of my boyfriend being a hoarder, his room was finally clean and goodness did it feel good.
Let me just say though, although it was a wonderful experience, I have absolutely no idea what I was thinking or why I was excited to begin with. I do know however, that the next time it needs doing in say another twenty-one years, I think I’ll be the one responding with one million and one no’s.